


Five Times Steve Found Bucky (and the One Time Bucky Found Himself)

by sky_reid



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst and Humor, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Friendship, Gen, Oops, Team Bonding, Teamwork, The Author Regrets Everything, also there is surprisingly little bucky, no actual spoilers but it won't make much sense if you haven't seen the movie, somehow this became a clint and steve bonding fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DC isn't the first time Steve has met the Winter Soldier and he will make damn sure it's not the last time he sees Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Steve Found Bucky (and the One Time Bucky Found Himself)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eruannalle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruannalle/gifts).



> did you think i wouldn't mims i bet you thought i wouldn't (happy birthdaaaaaaaaay)

 

_Five Times Steve Found Bucky_

_(and the One Time Bucky Found Himself)_

 

i.

_november, 2013_

_kiev, ukraine_

 

When this whole mess is over, Steve is gonna have to have a word with Natasha and Clint about the meaning of the phrase _straight up extraction_. He holds his shield up as girls run out of the hole in the wall of what used to be their student dorm. He rushes them towards the underground shelter in what little Russian Natasha taught him. He gets a few dirty looks and a selection curses in English.

 

An arrow whizzes over him heading in the direction of the machine gun flashes. “How's it going over there, boys?” asks Natasha's voice in his ear.

 

A minor explosion damages the rooftop of the building across him; the gun stops firing and two masked men fall down with the rubble. Steve shrugs to himself. “Suppose we'll live,” he says.

 

“Good. I'm gonna need you to hold the fort for a bit longer. I ran into some... problems.”

 

Another arrow, this time closer. Steve follows its path to a group of masked men running towards them from an alleyway. “How long?” Clint asks before Steve can suggest a different solution.

 

An ominous cracking sound and a grunt come through the comm before Natasha's overly cheerful reply. “Oh, I don't know. Five minutes, maybe ten.”

 

“We've got you covered for fifteen,” Steve says. The men are close enough that he can hurl his shield at them. The moment he does, he feels sharp pain in his left shoulder. When he looks down he finds that the red stain is spreading with alarming speed. He barely manages to catch his shield in time to defend himself from the next shot. “Where is that coming from!?”

 

A moment's silence and then, “10 o'clock.” An arrow goes in that direction, but it falls short of its destination. Steve can just about make out a dark, masked figure on a rooftop some streets over before he's running from another barrage of bullets. In his ear Clint says, “Nat, you've got three.”

 

ii.

_february, 2014_

_23km north of kiruna, sweden_

 

“I don't get it,” Tony says. “The signal is coming from _right here_. We're _literally_ standing on it.”

 

“There is _literally_ nothing here except for snow,” Natasha grumbles. Her arms are crossed over her chest. Steve admires her will power, he's pretty sure that's the only thing keeping her from shivering. He casts a glance towards their jet. After almost two hours in the wind and snow, even he is about to suggest they call it quits and head back.

 

“No, something _has_ to be here. The energy readings are _off the charts_.” His enthusiasm hasn't waned yet. That suit must be very warm.

 

“Are you sure your readings are correct? Who could you even kill here? We only saw one Lapp since we got here and he was 90 years old.”

 

“It's Sami now,” Natasha corrects under her breath.

 

“You're 90 years old,” Tony says. Steve is not sure if that was supposed to be a comeback. “Besides, it could be a lab! Someone could be a building a deadly weapon _right now literally right under our noses_!”

 

“So what do you suggest we do!?”

 

“I don't know!”

 

“Okay, that's it,” Natasha says. She looks about ready to murder someone. “ _You_ ,” she points at Tony, “can stay here and fanboy over a _potentially deadly weapon_ all you want. _I_ am cold and _I_ am going back. You're welcome if you want to join me.” She doesn't wait for either of them to respond. Over her shoulder she shouts, “Or you can always sleep in the Icehotel.” Tony looks like he might actually be considering that.

 

As the jet takes off, Steve looks back. The blizzard has gotten stronger. Through it he thinks he can make out a cloaked figure, but it's gone before he can point it out to Tony and Natasha.

 

iii.

_august, 2014_

_johannesburg, south africa_

 

The river of shoppers between them keeps moving at its own pace; bags rustle and fingers point to items in store windows. Everyone remains blissfully unaware of the moment when their eyes lock. There's a spark of recognition that Steve will cling to for a long time to come, but then his view is blocked by a group of tourists and when he looks again, Bucky's gone.

 

“Hey, did you find anything?” Sam asks, his hand on Steve's shoulder.

 

“No. No, I've got nothing.”

 

iv.

_october, 2014_

_santiago, chile_

 

“Not that I don't enjoy the warmer climates,” Clint says, pulling his glasses down so he can flirt with their waitress, “but what makes you think he's here?”

 

“Four different blog posts and a dead drug lord? I _know_ he's here.”

 

“Like you knew he was in Nepal? And Spain? And Brazil?”

 

Steve's hand hits the table with more force than he intends it to. He ignores the reactions from the patrons around them. “He has to be _somewhere_.”

 

Clint takes a sip of his fruity drink, unfazed by Steve's outburst. “Have you considered that he might be somewhere HYDRA wants him to be?”

 

Steve has, actually. There is no evidence that Bucky isn't still working for HYDRA, no evidence at all that he has any choice in where he is or what he's doing. But call him an optimist or call him desperate, Steve _believes_ in Bucky. He needs to.

 

“No, it's him,” Steve says. “He's remembering.”

 

“Whatever you say, Cap,” Clint agrees. He doesn't sound like he believes it, but that's how Clint usually sounds. And yet, him and the others have literally crossed oceans on Steve's say-so. It says something about his life that his friends are either shooting _with_ him or shooting _at_ him.

 

“I _will_ find him,” he says.

 

The man sitting at the table behind him stands up and walks out. There's something familiar in the way he moves. His abandoned meal lies on the table, a sheathed dagger on his bench.

 

v.

_september, 2015_

_new york city, usa_

 

Fury stabs at his sausage like it is a soviet assassin. Steve's coffee, black, no sugar, is getting cold. They look no weirder than the couple of hungover teenagers a few booths over. In fact, Steve is almost sure they're having the same things.

 

“Look, I get that he was your friend. But your friend is _gone_ ,” Fury says.

 

“I'm not gonna just give up on him. Not again.”

 

“What happened to him was not your fault,” Fury insists. Steve looks away. He takes a sip of his coffee without really tasting it. Having a heart to heart with his former boss is not exactly how he planned to start the day. “You didn't abandon him. But you _are_ abandoning all the people who need you now.”

 

If Steve didn't know him better, he might actually consider what Fury is saying. But as is, he knows Fury's been organizing the remaining underground factions of SHIELD, rebuilding them into an organization again. He's not here to ask for Steve's help. He's here to recruit him.

 

There are many things Steve _wants_ to say to Fury, but all that he does say is, “I come when _they_ call.” After all, Fury is not entirely wrong.

 

Fury takes a crumpled bill out of his pocket and throws it on the table. “How long has it been? Since the last time you had an actual, solid lead?” he asks, seemingly not expecting an answer. He stands up, pulls his cap lower and leaves.

 

The door is not even properly closed before Natasha calls him. “What did he want?” she asks without preamble.

 

Steve laughs. “Do you have me under surveillance?” Because it's not like she _wouldn't_.

 

“I have _him_ under surveillance.”

 

Steve opens his mouth to reply with a joke about Fury, duty and honour, but he never manages to get it out. At the counter, a man orders coffee to go, black, no sugar. And Steve knows that voice.

 

Bucky looks at him. His hair is short again, he has stubble and he looks like he hasn't slept properly in weeks. He's wearing a dark overcoat, with sleeves just long enough that his left hand doesn't show. The moment stretches like hours. This time when Steve blinks, Bucky is still there.

 

Steve scrambles to get out of the booth, but the moment he moves something changes. Bucky hands his money to the cashier, grabs the closed foam cup and practically runs through the door. Steve runs after him. At the first corner, they take a sharp right and Bucky stops. He drops the coffee and faces Steve again. Steve doesn't get closer than a few feet for fear of scaring Bucky away. In the end, Bucky takes a few steps back. He turns. He walks away. And Steve lets him. Bucky doesn't drink coffee.

 

It's only when he hears Natasha practically screaming his name into the phone that he remembers he was talking to her. “I found him,” he tells her. “He's here. And he remembers.”

 

i.

_december, 2015_

_new york city, usa_

 

“ _Wikipedia_ is a word!”

 

“You can't sneak website names as words past me!” Steve says.

 

“Anymore,” Sam adds.

 

“You really think that joke never gets old?”

 

“Unlike you.”

 

“I think I look pretty good for a guy pushing a century.”

 

Sam shrugs one shoulder. “Eh, you're not bad.”

 

There's a knock on the door. Sam moves for his gun before Steve says, “Must be the pizza.” But it's not pizza.

 

His nose is red from the cold. A scarf hangs loosely around his neck. A pair of leather gloves is peeking out of his left pocket. The snow in his hair and on his olive coat has melted into droplets of water. It looks like he's been standing there for some time.

 

“Bucky,” Steve says.

 

“Steve.”

 


End file.
